


Manipulations over Tea

by Larathia



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for a prompt for fic_promptly, "You know how hard it is to jerk off in a bathtub with a dog staring at you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manipulations over Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traxits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traxits/gifts).



"There seems little point in making camp in the wilderness," Morrigan noted, "when darkspawn could track us by Oghren's smell for miles." 

The Warden had agreed. That was why they were now in an _inn_ , in Denerim. Oghren had a room to himself, with Dog watching over him while he de-scented. Everyone else was split over three other rooms, sorted by size more than gender. There wasn't an inn room capable of housing _both_ Shale and Sten, and neither of the women were at all interested in sharing a room with Oghren.

"On the plus side, he's small enough to be completely submerged in the average bathtub," Alistair observed cheerfully. Though they'd borrowed a brace from the blacksmith's to make sure the unconscious, ale-and-vomit soaked dwarf didn't sink _completely_ underwater.

"Yes indeed," Leliana replied, in the awkward tone she tended to use when she was being polite because she wasn't sure whether the group could handle her more bawdy side in that particular conversation. "I do hope he appreciates the lavender soap. I was saving that."

"I cannot imagine why," Morrigan mused. "Floral scents attract insects. And the dwarf provably has no sense of smell."

"Wish I did," sighed Alistair - and then all of them paused, in varying states of appreciation, as from the next room the sounds of the dwarf's returning consciousness could be heard.

_"Ach! You're tryin' ta drown me! What the - what the CRAP is this biscuit -PAH! That ain't no - IS THIS SOME KINDA HINT, YA JACKASSES?"_

...and so on, for a good five minutes, accompanied by splashing that could be bathing, or just a semi-sober, mostly-hung-over Oghren trying to get out of a frothy bathtub. The rest of the party - well, except for Sten - listened to the quite audible, ongoing cussfest with quiet laughter or amused nods at the more inventive oaths. After a while the cussing faded and the dwarf apparently came to grips with the fact that he was in a hot bath, with soap, and the only witness was a dog who definitely wouldn't be telling tales.

Alistair coughed awkwardly and said, "Who's for a nice cup of hot tea?" in a tone that suggested if either of the women tried to discuss Oghren right now, his ears might well burn off from sheer embarassment.

And then their door burst open and a naked, covered-in-lavender suds, bristling with rage Oghren stood holding a double-bladed battle axe in the doorway, his other hand on the collar of Dog. Given the size differential, this meant his hand was under Dog's slightly open jaw; the hound found it all terribly amusing.

"Do _any_ of you know how hard it is to jerk off in a bathtub with a dog staring at you?" snarled Oghren, and yanked on Dog's collar, shoving the hound toward the rest of the party. 

The lavender-scented, frothy nude dwarf stomped back to his bath, the sound of Morrigan and Leliana's laughter and Alistair's facepalming embarrassment trailing in his wake.

"Alistair," said the Warden, in the calm, patient tone of 'not discussing THAT right now', "fix the tea."

Zevran, chuckling quietly, got to his feet. "I think perhaps the good dwarf could use some help untangling his beard." Whistling cheerfully, he followed the trail of lavender-scented suds, closing the door discreetly behind him.

"Tea!" said Ailistair, in a strangled tone, and quickly set about the minor ritual as if it were all that were saving him from a long, long string of mental images that no amount of bleach, ever, would scrub away.

The Warden was counting down from ten on her fingers, to Morrigan's amused approval. As the Warden's count reached three, there was a sudden bout of splashing from the other room.

"Tea," said Alistair. "Wonderful stuff, tea. Very calming. You wouldn't mind if I roomed with you, would you Shale? I promise to let you kill all the pigeons? And we could adjust your crystals?" _Anything to be in a room where I can't hear this_ was all but said, but the nearly-shouted subtext was entirely lost on the golem.

"Is there a particular reason that sex is so upsetting to you, Alistair?" asked Morrigan, intellectually curious. "It seems hardly worth the effort. Are you not required to have children in 'civilized' areas?"

"Lalala, not listening, tea!" said Alistair, watching the teapot desperately, as if by will alone he could make it steam. "Would you like a cup, Morrigan?"

"Knock it off, Morrigan," drawled the Warden, though there was amusement there, too. "If you keep needling him it'll be like the time we let him have sugar-coated doughnuts all over again."

"I do think it is _adorable_ that the louder they get, the redder your ears become," said Leliana, only sort of innocently. "Does it hurt when they get very red like that?"

"You too," said the Warden to Leliana, but it was too late. Proto-tea abandoned, Alistair, ears burning lobster red, bolted from the room.

The Warden sighed and got to her feet. "He'll be halfway across town," she said, shouldering her sword. "Just _couldn't_ leave it alone, could you. Shale, Sten, with me."

As the three trooped out, for a moment or two the only sounds were the growly, enthusiastic, splashy ones from the other room. And then the kettle, finally, began to whistle.

Morrigan smiled triumphantly, and poured hot water on the cup of tea leaves Alistair had prepared for himself.

Leliana nodded appreciatively. "One day that will not work so well, you know," she observed gently.

"Until then, tea?" asked Morrigan. "It would seem the templar has left his private cookie stash behind as well. Terribly unwise of him..."


End file.
